Halo: Tethered Hearts
by Owen Atticus
Summary: On the eve of the Covenant's invasion of Earth, a young couple will find their relationship tested beyond anything they could have imagined. Rani Sobek must find a way to help save her boyfriend, Private Nick Cunningham, who is stationed on an Orbital Tether high above the African Coast. Within the chaos of the day, they both will find out the true meaning of love. (ilovebees ARG)
1. Chapter 1

**Tethered Hearts**

_Mombasa Tether  
0544 Hours, 20 October 2552 _

Private Nick Cunningham couldn't sleep. He rolled over onto his side in his bunk and stared at his chatter charging on the nightstand. It had been three days since he had heard from Rani, his most-recent girlfriend, and worry was starting to set in.

They had met at his best friend's wedding only weeks prior, but her Kentucky charm and beauty was enough to see past her flaws, those of which included a hint of self-righteous know-it-all-ism. He knew it was probably a fleeting relationship, but Rani was the first girl he had met that kept him on his toes. She was fiery and pleasant wrapped into a down-home façade that made her more mysterious than most.

He reached over and checked the time. It was still an hour before his shift started and his alarm would be going off any minute. Growling to himself, he got out of bed and quickly got dressed. Nick started for the comm lounge, where the workers were allowed to use the chatternet link, and grabbed a cup of coffee on his way. He plopped down beside a dosing 3rd-shift officer, nearly startling him awake, and slid his ID into the comm slot.

Even at this early hour the lounge was crowded. No one had anything better to do. They had shut down the Rec Room, after Itchy got in a fight with another private. Punishing the whole lot of them for the mistakes of one or two never did make much sense to Nick.

The tiny screen switched over to a military mailbox and he punched in his access code. He leaned forward and scrolled down the same batch of messages from previous days. _Nothing. Absolutely Nothing._ He heaved a frustrated sigh and took a sip of his coffee.

In the last message exchange with Rani, it was clear she was going to do something work-related that required her to be offline for 'a little while' and that it might lead to 'trouble', and Nick couldn't help but suspect something had gone terribly wrong. Rani, being an ONI Analyst, would never be able to tell him exactly what was going on . . . but she had her ways. She liked to used code words and pauses in her speech, but Nick was still clueless most of the time.

Nick cracked a smile and recalled the night when they heard that Reach had fallen. Rani had taken him up to an old graveyard back in Kentucky hours before he was suppose to ship out. A bit foreboding, but it wasn't on purpose. They had shared more than just words at the base of those tombstones, and it did ease his transition into Military Life.

And then he got transferred to the New Mombasa Orbital Elevator at the last minute. His previous orders had him shipping off to a Marine attachment on some naval ship destined for the frontlines. Part of him was disappointed with the lack of action compared to the amount his unit was sure to see, but when he had learned of their horrific fate a few days ago, he wondered if someone high up in the chain of command was looking out for him.

_But why? Why me? Why have I been spared?_ The ship he would have been on, the _Seaquestra_, was attacked by a Covenant patrol and all hands had been lost. The news had rocked him back on his heels, but he dared not to tell Rani. She would have been a wreck for days.

So here he was, stationed as part of a UNSC military security team on board a commercial space tether, kilometers about the African coastline. One could easily consider it 'punishment duty' but no one ever said as much. Most crewmen looked at their posting as a place safely far away from the battle lines. Nick was still torn as to which camp he belonged.

He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger and took another sip of his coffee_. No, she's alright. She's scrappy and can reason her way out of most anything, I'm sure._

He was about to switch off the terminal and head back to his room to wash up when his chatter chimed a bit too loudly. The other officer next to Nick glared at him and he apologized with a raised hand. Glancing at the display, it was an incoming call from Earth, requiring him to link to an Orbital Chatter Grid. He bit his lower lip. Every crewman aboard the Tether was allotted a max amount of link-time per month, and Nick was almost to his limit. And his superiors were still hesitant to give access to everyone after last week's Chatternet dropout that echoed all the way to Saturn. _But if this is Rani. . ._

He switched off the terminal and quickly trotted over to the row of Chatter Grid wall units. He ducked inside the one on the end and turned on the privacy window tint and sound suppression. Jamming his chatter into the slot, he donned on the earpiece and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Nick?" It was Rani.

Relief flooded into him like a newly dug cistern. "Rani," he breathed. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, well . . . kind of." She paused and he could hear her take a deep breath. "You know that 'thing' I mentioned before?"

Nick felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. _Trouble_. Though she did stress how important the 'thing' was, he didn't want her becoming a fugitive before he could see her again. Conjugal visits were not his style. "Yeah, I remember. Please don't tell me this is your one privileged phone call. Rani, I told you—"

"No, I'm okay. I mean, it worked out. I was detained briefly, but I'm out now and I'm on my way back to Boston now."

"Detained?" Nick asked, feeling heat rise up in the back of his throat. "And they just let you out? Rani, I think you need to recalculate your career choices. This whole ONI thing is getting out of hand."

"No, it's not like that." Rani heaved a sigh. "Nick, I know what I'm doing. I have a . . . 'friend' in high places that helped me out. Like she helped you out."

Nick frowned and paused. _Like she helped me out?_ And then it clicked. "You mean, being assigned to tether duty?"

"Yeah." He could hear her smiling as she spoke. "There's a lot she does that we can't. She takes care of her people."

Nick shook his head. "Whatever, I'm just glad you're okay. Wait, you said you're heading back to Boston?"

Still smiling, Rani said, "yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm about to be offered another job. Something a little more . . . accommodating to my expertise."

"Really?" One of his eyebrows rose. A stuttered tone from the terminal interrupted his train of thought and he swore to himself. If let loose, Rani could talk for hours. "Rani, I don't have much time left on the Chatter Grid."

"That's okay, I should be going too."

The timer started ticking down from 30 seconds. "Rani, when will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure. You probably won't have a shore leave for a while now, though, right?" She paused. "I'll see if our 'friend' could help us out on that."

"Nick shook his head and smiled. "Okay." He sighed. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. Love you."

"I—" The called was disconnected. He heaved another sigh and took off the earpiece. He ran a hand over his face and exited the pod. Glancing at the time readout on his chatter, he started for the nearest communal restroom before his shift began.

As he stood over the sink, letting the hot water steam the mirror, he wondered how Rani could be so reckless and still come out clean on the other side. This 'new position' she spoke of could more than likely mean the end of their relationship, but he was willing to make it last a while longer. After all, there were no females aboard the tether.

Wrestling with the idea of physical intimacy with Rani versus someone else kept his mind distracted as he began his patrol of the warehouse. At least for the first few hours. At 0840 hours, the alert came over the stations broadcast PA—and it was the worst sort of news.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Instinct and training took over for Nick. He darted for the nearest exit and hit the blast doors' emergency activation with a thirty-second countdown appearing on the monitor to his right. "C'mon!" he yelled to the workers, still wondering if this was a drill or not. When the station head come over the loudspeakers with confirmation, the room was suddenly filled with controlled hustle.

Itchy came running over, breathing heavily. His bald head already gleaming with sweat. "What's going on?"

Nick just shrugged and looked over Itchy's shoulder. "Hurry it up, people. Doors seal in 10."

Itchy frowned. "But what—"

"Save it," Nick interrupted. The last pair of personnel ducked into the main perimeter corridor and he pulled Itchy along in his wake. The blast doors slammed shut and Nick felt his ears pop. He let Itchy go and pointed down one end of the circular hallway. "Take Group Bravo to the starboard docks. We don't know if we're evacuating or not."

The fellow private's eyes went wide. "Seriously? Unless one of the freighters is still docked and prepped we aren't going anywhere."

Nick grabbed a fistful of Itchy's uniform and pushed him away. "Just go!"

He turned and headed port, along with Group Alpha leading the way. As he trotted down the corridor, he caught glimpses of the wall displays updating the alert as more information became available. He saw words like "Fleet" and "Maneuvering" and "Evacuation."

Activating his comm unit, he called up his commanding officer. "Major Dunnell, Group Alpha is almost to the rally point."

"Good. Bravo just arrived and the other two groups are already here with me in the main docking bay." Donnell's voice was strong and authoritative. "We're leaving the station."

"Copy, Sir." _Leaving?_ Nick slowed his pace when he came to an outer observation bubble wide enough to accommodate a dozen men shoulder to shoulder. _But we'd only be leaving if there was an attack_ . . . His thoughts trailing off, he slid to a stop at the oval-shaped bubble. His jaw dropped and his grip on his comm unit loosened, sending the blocky device falling towards the floor, dangling by the spiraled cord.

Outside in the not-so-distant space between the Orbital Defense Platforms, explosions and various types of crossfire were exchanged. In the midst of all of it was a giant curved ship Nick had never seen before breaking through a field of debris._ The_ _Covenant_. _They're here_.

* * *

Rani had known right away when the older man had entered her compartment on the train headed to Boston that he was ONI. And not just any ONI personnel—but from Section Zero. He had just indirectly offered her a new job with him at Internal Affairs and she already had her mind made up that she was going to take it.

"I want a black suit. And knockout gas," she said matter-of-factly. "If I'm going to be spying on the spies I'll definitely need a pen full of knockout gas." She folded her arms across her chest and nodded.

The older man chuckled. "Yes, you do. I'll see what we can do about that . . . "

He trailed off when the telltale sound of air-raid sirens began to wail in the distance, growing in intensity with each blurred image of rail suspension poles that past. It took Rani a few seconds to calculate the reasons why such an alert would be going off, but the events of the past few weeks left no doubt in her mind. The mysterious device that a ship called "Apocolypso" had retrieved in interstellar space had gone off a few months ago, sending out an EMP spike and crippling the Chatternet momentarily. Rani and a few others had been led by a rouge ONI AI called Durga to shut it down for good on location at a military base. They had succeeded, but in the process of the device being shut down it had sent a devastating EMP shockwave that could have alerted the Covenant to Earth's location.

_But we had to_, Rani justified. _If we hadn't, that device would have activated some ancient, mass destruction array and every living thing in the galaxy would have been killed. We had to . . ._

Even in the chaos of the moment, Rani felt her throat tighten and her mind raced to one name that she breathed aloud. "Nick." Suddenly, any guilt or malice she had vanished and was replaced by worry and urgency.

The ONI agent was still looking out the compartment's window, wincing through the afternoon sunlight streaking in. "What in the hell is going on?"

"They're here."

He frowned. "Who?"

"The Covenant," she clarified. Rani stood up and opened the door to the main aisle. Her black hair partially whipped around in the loose bun she had fixed on the back of her head. Others had recommended she get it cut, but she doubted she could ever get up the courage to cut it shorter—like so many women her age were. "Where is your backup?" she asked over her shoulder.

But before the older man could response, the compartment to her right flung open and a plain-clothes ONI agent nearly ran into her. "Miss Sobeck, we need to get moving." He stepped into the doorway and nodded to the older man. "Colonel Barnes, this way."

Rani moved out into the hall, and she noticed how with just the simple act of the Colonel standing tall, it seemed to evaporate years off his age. No longer did he appear to be a feeble desk pilot but a man who could command respect and soldiers. _I think I'm going to like working with him_.

The two followed the agent, and Barnes urged him to speed up. "How long before the next possible stop, Dansley?"

The tall, brown-haired man led them into the passenger car up the line. Only partially crowded for a afternoon run, they still had to push their way through to the lead car. "Approximately three minutes. I'll get the pilot to do an emergency stop."

Beside her, seating by the window, Rani heard a woman inhale sharply with the possibility of a sudden halt to her commute. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the woman throw her hands up in the air in an I-give-up manner. Rani followed on ahead and Dansley stopped short of the final car. He motioned for Barnes and Rani to stay in the flex-tube that connected the first car with the engine.

As Dansley showed his credentials to the security guard, Colonel Barnes pulled Rani aside. "We're going back to HQ. We'll be able to assess the situation easier from there."

"And what _is_ the situation?" Rani asked. "Aren't we just going to make ourselves a target if we head to an ONI base?

Barnes frowned. "If it is the Covenant, I doubt they'd know where all of our ONI installations are. Even the UNSC doesn't know where we're stationed." His chatter beeped and he turned away to answer it.

Rani took the time to use her own chatter. "Durga?" she whispered.

"A Covenant Capital Ship has entered the atmosphere," the AI's voice came back almost immediately.

Rani looked up through the tiny square window nearest her. "Where?"

"It's heading for Africa, right now. Too soon to plot . . . wait." Durga paused.

Rani looked over her shoulder and saw the Colonel still in deep conversation. "Durga, what about Nick?" she breathed, feeling that sense of dread bubbling up again. "Is the Covenant going to be right on top of him?"

"I . . ." Durga trailed off. When she came back over the chatterline, her voice was more militaristic, more informational. "In a manner of speaking, yes. The Covenant ship is slowing down and taking up a position above New Mombasa. Those little streaks of light up in the sky are Seraph fighters—patrols to lead our defenses away from the Capital Ship."

Rani squinted, trying to see any trace of the fighters, but the cloud cover was starting to thicken. It was as if Nature itself was preparing for the arrival. "Well, do something, Durga," she hissed. "Get him out of there."

"I'm trying; it's not that simple." Durga was quiet for a moment and Rani almost said something, but the AI came back with a single phrase she had heard her repeat before. "I take care of my own."

And with that, the link was severed. Rani pulled the chatter away from her ear and stared at the blank homescreen. She knew there was little she could do for Nick here, on a train to Boston, and that Durga was Rani's only hope to get Nick to safety.

She looked up through the glass once more, praying this was all a rouse—that the Covenant didn't have a plan. But she knew better than that.

The sudden deceleration nearly knocked her off her feet, but she braced herself against the flextube's outer shell. Dansley was at her side in an instant, helping her regain her balance. He pointed to the exit and led her and the Colonel out into the overcast afternoon. In the distance she could hear the whine of Pelican engines high up above.

Within that moment, Rani wondered if the last few months with ONI had been God's way of telling her to do something important with her life, or if she was only seeking after selfish ambitions. She could hear her mother's voice inside her head, begging her to come back home to Kentucky, to the bunker her father had made under a duck pond. But, as she had said before, she was too far deep. She had to see things through to the end. If not for herself, than to make sure Nick was going to be okay.

And all of her hopes were in the proverbial hands of a rogue AI named Durga.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Losing any sense of time, Nick felt his skin crawl at the sight of the giant enemy ship breaking through Earth's upper atmosphere. Burning UNSC projectiles seem to bounce off its shields or be lost in pursuit as point-defense systems shot them down. It was a sobering image, and Nick couldn't take his eyes off of the scene.

"Nick? Hello? Nick!" The shouting of his name did little to distract him, but a firm grip on his shoulder spun him around to face Itchy. "What are you still doing here?" the bald-headed private blurted out between catching his breath. "Major Dunnell's calling for a full evacuation, and there's only like four ships docked."

Nick shrugged off Itchy's grip and picked up his radio. "Why aren't you down at the docks already?"

Even in the moment of chaos, Itchy smiled and patted his shoulder-slung pack. "I had to swing by my room and pick up my stash," he whispered. "Time to relocate and find new business opportunities, you know?"

Nick shook his head, too caught up in the moment to think about the penalty for Itchy being caught with _pickup sticks_. Itchy always did his best to hide the stains on his teeth, but selling to the dock workers was pushing his luck. "Just c'mon. The whole station is probably already loaded up by now."

As they took off down the main corridor, flashes of light from the battle went off like strobes through the exterior windows. With each thundering footstep he took, Nick wondered if the Covenant would even care about the strategic advantage—or disadvantage—of a space tether. _Didn't they have those fancy beam transport things anyway?_

The first explosion happened before the two privates were ever near the docks. The second and noticeably larger explosion came just seconds after. It rumbled the floor and sent dust clouds from the piping above. Nick stopped and Itchy followed suit, nearly slamming into the back of him. "What the hell was that?" He reached to activate his radio, but the hiss coming for its tiny speaker told him static would mask anything he tried to say or hear. "Those blasts sounded like they came from the docks."

Itchy brushed past him and ran to a wall terminal. They were now in the Shipping and Receiving Wing where private companies had to register their goods for transport. Wall terminals filled the place, ranging from simple chatterlinks to fulltime holo access. Itchy swiped his badge through the slot and began firing away at the keyboard. "That sounded big, whatever it was."

The S & R Wing was dark, except for the emergency glowpanels—like everywhere else aboard the station, and Nick desperately wanted to do something other than wait for Itchy to finish his inquiry. Suddenly the viewscreens displaying emergency evacuation information above the main kiosk winked out. Then another set of viewscreens to his right powered down. Nick followed the pattern with his eyes and the entire Wing's information monitors went dark.

"Hey!" Itchy exclaimed. When he looked up and saw that his terminal wasn't the only one that was affected, he walked over to stand by Nick. "Power failure?"

Before Nick could reply, the monitors flickered on and off several times before finally displaying a static image of the UNSC crest. The screens then began to show different security cam views of the entire station, views that only the chief security officer had privilege to. Cycling through almost three dozen images on each monitor, the two main viewscreens affixed atop the information kiosk displayed security cam feeds labeled "Dock 1-2A" and "Dock 2-2B". What was happening on those screens sent a chill down Nick's spine.

"No way," he breathed. The view of Docks 1 & 2 showed massive structural damage, as if some giant beast had taken a bite out of the north most portion of the station. Atmosphere was most certainly lost and there were no signs of shuttle craft or the bulk freighters that should have been docked there_. I hope the Major got some of our people off safely_.

Itchy stabbed a finger at the right monitor. "Look!"

On the screen the purple tell-tale shape of a Covenant Phantom came into view, casting a trio of search lights into the aftermath of the destruction. A slender transport followed with an awkward looking attachment on its front end: a long tube with a claw. When it grafted to an interior wall off camera and sent a slight tremor through the station, Nick knew what it was. "Boarding craft." He threw Itchy a panicked look. "We have to get out of here, _now_."

Itchy threw his satchel over his neck, wearing it like a medic bag, and looked around the room, helpless. "Where are we gonna go? The Covies are coming in through the docks."

"And they'll be on top of us soon." Nick felt his hands begin to shake. He had no idea what to do. The emergency evacuation procedures were all null and void now, and he and Itchy probably had about a minute before they had company. He knew they couldn't defend against a Covenant boarding party, let alone find enough rounds in time to push them back and hail the UNSC for an evac.

The two main viewscreens winked out again, but the image was now replaced by a building diagram of the station. The view zoomed in and the S &R Wing overview filled the screen. Red arrows pulsed directly towards the way Itchy and Nick had just come from. On the multitude of monitors around them, red arrows filled the room, pointing them back down the corridor.

Nick felt his jaw drop. "What the hell is this?"

"Directions?" Itchy said, already turning around and starting for the main corridor. "But someone or something is telling us to get out of here before the Covies waltz in here, and right now that's the only idea that's making any sense."

Nick growled a sigh and ran along in itchy's wake. As they flew down the corridor, wall displays repeated the red arrow pointing, and Nick's confusion grew. "Where is this taking us?"

"Hell if I know, but . . ." Itchy slowed his pace when he came around the corner.

Nick stopped next to Itchy and frowned. The red arrows that had led them this far were now bracketing the double doors that led to the station's main elevator plaza. Then it clicked in his head. "Oh, no. You can't be serious." He keyed open the door and stepped through to the plaza. The giant room held the hundreds of storage pods that transferred the cargo from New Mombasa up to the tethered station, and Nick took a health guess that this was some smartass' idea of escape.

Itchy walked past him and stared up at the cavernous space. "I guess we have no choice." He turned around and looked at Nick. "You ever hear of anyone using these pods for personnel transport?"

A muffled explosion back down the corridor answered for Nick. "No time like the present." He pushed Itchy forward. "C'mon, the Covies will be all over this station in seconds."

They ran towards the central structure that housed the pods' send and release mechanism. One of the giant pods was still in the clamp, set for departure, while the receiving tube had a flashing red light above it. Nick searched for some sort of control panel but found none. "Do you know how this thing works?"

Itchy shrugged and started for a set of grated stairs attached to a cylindrical formation that more than likely housed the clamps gears and power supply. "I sold to a couple guys that ran this thing and if I remember correctly . . ." When he made it to the top of the platform, he nodded. "Found it! Now we have to . . . wait. Don't touch anything."

Itchy clambered down the steps and ran over to the pod in holding. "This pod is already sealed so when it travels down the elevator and through the Earth's atmosphere it won't lose its integrity. Let's open it up and clear out some space for ourselves."

Nick shook his head at the craziness of the entire idea. He hit the access panel on the pod and it hissed open to reveal pallets full of military cargo boxes. He pulled the shipping manifest from the compartment on the interior side of the pod's door and read it off. "UNSC shipment straight from Reach bound for Indigo Base in New Philadelphia. Mostly weapons, but a there's a few containers of MRE's we could pull out that are light enough for us to grab."

"Do it quickly." Itchy helped him with the first box and realized how light they were. "You can get this done, but I need to prep the clamp on some sort of a timer release."

Nick chucked another box onto the ground. "You know how to do that?"

"No, but I'll try." Itchy vanished from view, up the steps.

Nick had almost carved out a large enough space for both of them to stand comfortably in the pod when he heard the alien voice echo in the plaza. He froze, trying to see from which exit the conversation was coming without turning his head, but Itchy had been too consumed with the controls and didn't hear it.

"Nick, I think I found it! Actually, I think the program is running itself. I really didn't do anything."

He swore to himself. "Shut up, Itchy!" he hissed.

But it was too late. The barking of orders from a Sangheili was answered by the squeaks of a trio of Unggoy, and green plasma began to spew out from the portside exit. A burst struck one of the MRE boxes lying on the ground and it melted the packages in an instant. Another series of blasts peppered the floor and the base of the stairwell, sending shards of superheated concrete and metal flying.

"Itchy, get down here!" Nick grabbed the pod's door and opened it wider, using it as a shield while still being able to see the stairwell. With his back up against the door he saw Itchy's face appear then disappear around the bend in the steps.

"I'm pinned down!" Itchy swore out loud and Nick could hear him pull out his shockstick and prime it. The Major had protested against the security team using actual firearms during patrol duty and restricting access to MA5B's and M6's only in the Armory, and it didn't make their current predicament any easier.

Nick looked back at the crates stacked next to the MRE's in the pod and his eyes read the various labels in a hurried panic. _There_. He reached for a crate labeled "M392 DMR" and pulled it off the top. The crate came down in a crash on the floor and Nick cursed when he saw an electronic lock on it. He primed his own shockstick and looked away as he touched it to the lock near the central handle. There was a sizzle and a brief flash of light. The lock had short-circuited and Nick kicked the lid open. Neatly sandwiched between folds of foam, six long-barreled rifles were ready for use.

He grabbed the bottom rifle and the adjacent magazine and slammed it home. "Get ready to move, Itchy," he called back up. "I'll give you covering fire, and then you make it down here."

"Got it!"

Nick had fired rifles before, in training and back home in Kentucky with his friend Jason. He was never formally trained on DMR's, but he knew how to shoot. Although, shooting at targets and hunting deer was another thing entirely than right now. There were living beings bent on his death or worse, capture, that could only lead to a more painful, slow death. He and Itchy had to get out of here and he had to give them a fighting chance.

Placing the butt of the rifle against his right shoulder, he spun around and surveyed the plaza. Coming through the double doors were four Grunts and one towering Elite, firing at Itchy intermittently. They were out in the open and fair game to Nick. He raised the DMR and looked down the sight. His first shot at the lead Grunt went high and ricocheted off the back wall, but his second shot hit the alien square in the head, knocking it back onto its squadmate. "Itchy, move!"

The Grunts stopped firing, bolting for cover, and Itchy flew down the steps, typically making as much noise as possible. Aiming down his sight, Nick tried to fire off another round at the fleeing Grunts, but he pulled his head away from the DMR when he saw the Elite march forward through the breaking ranks of underlings. The towering alien didn't even flinch and started directly towards Nick. "Hurry it up, Itchy!"

"Hold on," he pleaded, landing hard at the base of the steps. The Grunts were now regrouping behind a pair of empty containers while the Elite kept coming forward. Itchy was smart enough not to risk a glance over his shoulder and dove for the safety of the pod's large door. He landed in a thud at Nick's feet. "I'm here," he gasped. "Now let's go!"

"One sec." Nick aimed down the sight again, targeting the massive Elite's chest. He fired twice. The two shots hit the alien square in the chest, but had almost no effect, other than its shields wavering for a few seconds. If anything, it made the Elite increase its pace and it reached across to its left hip and pulled and a handled device. The Elite squeezed it and a dual, sharp-edged shape appeared in the form of glowing white energy. The Elite would be on them in a matter of seconds.

Nick heard a hinge creak and then felt a forceful tug against his shoulder. Itchy pulled him inside the storage pod as the door closed before them. Nick hit the corner of the DMR on the door's frame and the jolt sent the weapon spinning out of his hands to land outside the pod. He gave Itchy a look of pure disdain, but the light in the pod soon disappeared as the door locked into place. Inside the pod, the internal pressure neutralized and Nick felt his ears pop.

Outside, he could hear plasma rounds burn into the pod followed by a tremendous thud, which could have only been the Elite arriving a little too late. The alien pounded at the door but to no effect. Nick wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but the darkness left as much uncertainty to their fate as the hope that the clamp's automation process would begin before the Covenant found out how to open the pod.

Fate, it seemed, was on their side, and the clamp grasped the brackets along the sides of the pod, lifting it up effortlessly and placing it on the SEND pad. Grabbing hold of one the crates inside the darkened pod did little to keep their feet assured, and both privates were tossed like sailors aboard a ship in stormy seas.

Nick bent down on his knees, hoping to limit his movement, and felt around his beltpack for his glowlamp. He pulled the light out and activated the switch, bathing the pod's confined interior with a yellow glow. Itchy was likewise on the floor of the pod, holding a few crates that had loosened from their restraints to keep them from tumbling onto him. Nick fought the disorientation and stood to push the crates back in place. Together they both secured the crates and returned to their place on the floor.

Both men were breathing heavily and the limited air in the pod wasn't going to relieve them anytime soon. Nick reached out and touched Itchy's shoulder and nodded his head with his breathing. They slowed their breath down together and Nick could already feel slightly more relaxed. "What now?"

Itchy shrugged uncomfortably. "The SEND pad should just—"

Without warning, gravity left the pod as it was opened up to the weightlessness of shooting down the Tether. Holding on to the nearby crates and each other, Nick watched Itchy's face, wondering if he was feeling as queasy as he was. "Just hold on. This shouldn't take more than what, 30 minutes?"

"Hell if I know." Itchy winced and reached behind his back. When he pulled away his hand it was caked in blood. "I don't think I got away so clean," he said, pushing out the words with increasing difficulty.

Nick's eyes went wide and he pulled out his medpack. "Turn around, Itchy. Let me see how bad it is."

Rotating with labored breath, Itchy faced away. "Just don't tell me I'm going to die."

Nick didn't answer, but from the look of the wound he knew Itchy had to get to a medtech soon. He unpacked the medical supplies and peppered the bleeding portion of Itchy's lower back with the insta-skin applicator. He didn't know if it would help stop the bleeding, but it was something he could do. Nick finished up by wrapping Itchy's lower back with the largest bandage supplied with the kit.

"Just breathe slowly, Itchy." Nick wanted to say something else, something more inspiring about how they had just gotten out of a very tough situation and lived to tell about it, but with his injury, Itchy wasn't in the conversing mood. More than enough adrenaline was racing through Nick, and the events of an early morning were nothing short of spectacular, but Nick wondered if there was safety awaiting them in New Mombasa.

Something deep down told him it was a far-fetched fantasy.


End file.
